Skyrim's Guide to Irony
by Jessica Kesler
Summary: The Listener of the Dark Brotherhood and the commander of the StormCloak army find themselves thrown together in the most unique position. A Khajit and Orc, enemies for years, join together to achieve one common goal. Rated MA for v/g/l/sc
1. Chapter 1: Ras'Nae

**Skyrim's Guide to Irony**

**A Skyrim Fanfiction written by Jessica and John Bell**

**Hello, everyone! Thank you for choosing to read **_**Skyrim's Guide to Irony.**_** This story is about my husband's and my Skyrim characters. It is about two unlikely people, destined to join so that they can achieve a larger goal. There is adventure, fighting, and a bit of romance. :) **

**Now, I am writing the story, but since my husband's character Diablos is his own, he has helped me. He'll be putting in his POV for Diablos. I'd also like to give credit to the creators, editors, publishers, and other what-not of Skyrim. Without them, this story wouldn't have its backbone. **

**Summary: Diablos is one bad-ass Orc. He is the Harbinger of the Companions and General of the StormCloak army. A wearer of heavy armor, Diablos is known throughout Tamriel for wielding the Ancient War Axe, Wuuthrad. Ras'Nae is a lithe Khajit, lurking in the shadows as the Listener for the infamous Dark Brotherhood and leader of the Thieves Guild in Riften. She is a skilled assassin and none have survived her blade. **

**For years, Ras'Nae had been sending Dark Brotherhood members to kill Diablos, as a contract was put out for him. However, every member she had sent has been found dead and maimed. Finally, the beautiful Khajit dawns her Black Hand robes and sets out for the Orc. What she finds will change their worlds upside down. The two unlikely races join to achieve the ultimate goal: Diablos High King and Ras'Nae Night Queen.**

**Rated MA for violence, gore, language, and sexual content. WARNING: MAJOR SPOILER ALERTS! Without further ado, **_**Skyrim's Guide to Irony.**_

**=====}==o ..:::Chapter One: Ras'Nae:::.. o==={====**

Enough was enough. I would no longer stand for it. The filthy Orc has killed the last of my Brotherhood siblings. As I stood in the main area of the DawnStar sanctuary, the rest of the Black Hand stood away from me, even Babette the child vampire. My tail lashed back and forth furiously as I looked at the body on our dining table. She was the newest recruit, Erin. A young wood elf who had found darkness in her heart. And here she lay, her head barely attached to her body, a deep gash across her chest and stomach. Her bowels were hanging out through the standard enchanted armor. However, what pissed me off the most was the note stuck to her chest with a dagger that read:

_"Try again, Listener."_

I gripped the dagger and ripped it from her chest, a spout of blood spraying into my face. I whirled on my siblings, fire in my ice eyes. "I will kill this disgusting creature if it is the last thing I do! No more shall we be killed off," I hissed, licking the blood from the dagger to seal my promise. The members began to cheer and Nazir stepped forward, a smile playing on his dark lips. He crossed his arms.

"Well done, Listener. Will you leave immediately?"

I bowed my head and walked briskly to my chambers. Opening the chest at the end of my large bed, I pulled out my Nightingale gear. This gear had better enchantments for sneaking, and it was the strongest bow I possessed at the current moment. I changed, Babette watching me from the corner with her red eyes.

"Yes," I asked her as pulled on the Armor. Her glittering eyes often sent chills down the other's spines but not mine. It only irritated me. As I pulled on the hood and fastened the cape around my neck, she stepped from the shadows. "I should warn you," Babette started. I felt the irritation rising in my belly. I often received "warnings" from the vampire child, and they normally always pissed me off. But, she was a senior member, here long before I, so I respected her to an extent. I faced her, staring down at her. "I have heard rumors that this Orc has a certain...charm about him with the ladies. Beware."

From beneath my hood I raised a brow, crossing my arms and dropping my hip. "Oh really," I asked, a bit of sarcasm seeping into my voice. "I should hardly worry about that. No man has tempted me into forgetting my duties so far." A small, coy smile graced Babette's lips. It only agitated me more. "Yes, so far." She turned and walked to my door. Pausing in the doorway, she looked back over her shoulder. "Oh, and don't get killed. We waited long for a Listener to be named before you. I don't think we could wait again." She left, closing the door behind her. I hissed, wanting to throw something, but I didn't. I valued my possessions.

Going to the kitchen, I grabbed a small satchel from a shelf and filled it with a few pieces of dried meat and an apple. Returning back to my room, I grabbed a couple of health potions from my cabinet, three lock picks, a small silver dagger, and some poison to dip my arrows in. Finally, I grabbed my Nightingale bow and quiver from the weapons rack and set off.

Following the back exit, I emerged into the brisk, cold air of Skyrim. The sun instantly blinded me after being down in the Sanctuary for a few hours. Once my eyes were able to adjust, I took stock of my surroundings. A click and a half away, a small herd of elk grazed lazily. On the nearby coast, I could hear Horker's bellowing at each other. Turning back to the elk herd, I drew my weapon and strung my bow, testing the string for any signs of wear or tear. Satisfied, I notched an arrow, crouched down, and zoned in on my prey. I chose the largest elk, who was a little farther out from the herd, watching for danger. I drew in a breath and released the shaft. It flew straight and true, straight into the large beast's heart. He fell with a wail, causing the rest of the herd to shoot off. I stood up, watching as a pack of black wolves instantly set upon my kill. I smirked. Before the wolves could get a bite, I loosed off three arrows back-to-back, and they fell as easily as their would-be meal.

Making note of the kills so I could inform Nazir later, I let out a loud hooting noise. I stood still for a few minutes, listening. Finally, I could hear the heavy thud of hooves beating on the ground. The Dark Brotherhood horse, Shadowmere, appeared from around the set of boulders concealing the hidden entrance. I smiled as I saw the beautiful stallion. His fur was dark as night and his eyes red as blood. The massive beast pranced over to me, steam bellowing from his nostrils as if he was filled with fire. I put my hand to his soft nose, and for a moment, I let myself be consumed by the smell of death that always seemed to follow him.

As if sensing the task ahead of us, Shadowmere threw back his magnificent head and let out a deathly cry. I smiled and couldn't hold back a chuckle. One could not ask for a better horse. He was ready to kill and never hesitated before sword or spell. Grabbing Shadowmere's mane, I leaped up onto his back, for he wore no saddle, and the dark horse took off. His hooves hit the ground faster than any normal equine, and we reached the previously Winterhold Imperial camp by dusk.

The camp was now ran by StormCloak soldiers. I dismounted Shadowmere a little ways from the base, since he tended to unsettle the common rabble. Lowering my hood, I walked up to the site, my hands out in the open. Immediately, I was stopped by a StormCloak soldier holding a readied bow. From the smell of him, he had been drinking heavily.

"S-stop right, hiccup, there! State yer name and yer, hiccup, purpose, cat!"

I ignored the comment, even though my tail flicked in annoyance. "My name is Astrid," I stated, using the late traitorous leader of the Brotherhood. "I am only passing through, but I am looking for a man, an Orc to be specific. You should know of him, since he is your General. Diablos?"

The man lowered his bow to waist length as he swayed slightly. "Astrid, eh? Not the usual name for a cat!" My jaw tensed, but I kept my mouth shut. "But, what business do ye have with the great Diablos?" Remembering Babette's warning, I said, "well, sir. I hate to admit this, but I am a courtesan of Diablos. When he last visited my home, he left a priceless gem, and I wish to return it to him so I'm not labeled a thief."

He chuckled at this. "Aye, the bastard always gets the women, all though I didn't know he went for pussy cat!" A soft warning growl left my throat, but thankfully the fool was too drunk or too stupid to hear it. "Well, lass. Last I heard, Diablos was in the Dwarven city, Alftand. Although, that's no place for a lass, even a cat like you."

I closed my eyes at his statement. I had gotten all I could out of him. I also wanted his blood. Putting on my prettiest smile, I stepped forward, wrapping my tail around his waist. "Would you like to see why I'm one of General Diablos' favorites?" The man stared at me for a moment, and then grinned from ear to ear. "I've never seen a cat naked before." I let out a growl that thankfully sounded more like a purr. "I'll show you."

I drew him away from the camp, near Shadowmere. The horse grew incredibly restless and instantly, the man was afraid of the dark beast. "What's wrong with yer horse," he said, backing up. "Sssh," I said softly. "He won't hurt you." I slid behind the man, my voice a silky purr in his ear. He sighed, melting against my soft touch along his neck. My free hand drew the dagger from my satchel. I covered his mouth quickly and then slit his throat. The blood sprayed out over Shadowmere. He reared up, screaming excitedly. I began to laugh as I let his body slump to the ground. He stared up at me, blood pouring from the beautiful gash across his throat. His eyes began glaze as he gurgled, and then as quickly as it had been done, it ended. That was the shame about death. It always seemed to come before I could get my full enjoyment out of it.

Humming softly, I wiped off my dagger on the front of his uniform and began to go through his belongings. I found a pretty silver ring, a necklace with a health enchantment, and a small coin purse of twenty gold. As I counted out the coin in my hand, Shadowmere let out a warning cry. I looked up quickly and cursed. The soldier's companions were beginning to look for him. I could see their blasted torches bobbing in the dark. Gathering my things, I quickly pulled him to a bush where he would be concealed until I could make my escape. Leaping on Shadowmere, we set off at full sprint, making a wide berth of the search party. Almost a click away, I could hear the warning horns as they discovered the body. I grinned. They would never know who had murdered their poor, drunken friend.

As soon as I felt that we were far enough away, I slowed Shadowmere down to a steady gait. He tossed his head happily as we made our way. He would bring us to where our contract was. He always did. I began to let my mind stray as I thought back over the past few years. I came to Skyrim as a young girl of eighteen. Unfortunately, I had ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. The disgusting Imperials had tried to charge me with being a StormCloak. It was ridiculous, but a dragon had saved me. Well, burned down the little town, eating the guards, roasting the citizens. It was my first official confrontation of death. Instead of being horrified, I had been oddly fascinated. After that, it was over the next year that I had joined the Thieves Guild. In a matter of six months, I rose through the ranks and became leader. Now, I let my most trusted advisers run the Guild because for a little less than four years, I had been busy rebuilding the Dark Brotherhood from the mess that Astrid had left it in. Ah, it seemed like only yesterday that I had been named the Listener...

Shadowmere stopped, jolting me from my thoughts. I looked ahead of me to see Alftand, looming up in the darkness. Shadowmere walked up quietly to the side of the mountain. I dismounted him, looking around to find the quickest way up. I swiftly began to climb the side of the mountain. Thanks to my nimble body, I was able to reach the top ledge in no time. As I pulled myself over the edge, I gasped. In front of me was three snowy saber cats, slaughtered and butchered. Blood covered the area and not to far off, I could see a couple of wolves in the same condition. The sign of Diablos. I drew my bow and kept to a crouch as I entered Alftand. Like outside, I was instantly greeted by death. For a moment, I could enjoy the butchery of Diablos. He liked to chop his enemies, making sure they were maimed and disfigured so they could never get up again. Lots of blood and gore. I drew a deep breath as the scent of blood filled me. Ah, delicious.

I looked down at my feet and could see the deep print of one who wears heavy armor. Yes, it was definitely Diablos. It was no secret that the man would only wear heavy armor made of the strongest materials. Carefully, I walked through the Dwarven city, following the trail of dead bodies. It wasn't long before I could hear the sounds of battle. Creeping up to a corner, I peeked around into a long corridor. On either side of the Orc were Dwarven Centurions, ready to attack. To the common onlooker, he would look overwhelmed. However, I knew better. Diablos wasn't one to be bested as easily as a couple of Centurions. Not the Orc who had taken down four Elder Dragons and lived with hardly a scratch. Studying the murderer of my Dark siblings, I wasn't impressed...much. He wore armor made of the Dragons he killed. He wielded the legendary War Axe Wuuthrad. He wasn't as green as the others of his race, nor did his mandibles stick out as grotesquely. What caught my eye however was the color of his eyes. Ice blue, like mine. Never had I seen an Orc with such beautiful eyes…

I growled softly in annoyance. My mind had strayed far to easily. Here was my contract. Here was my kill, and I was thinking of his eyes? I pulled an arrow from my quiver and retrieved the poison from my satchel. It was potent, but had one drawback. Unless the arrow head burrowed deep into skin, it would only paralyze the target. My mark must be true. I lathered up the head with the thick salve, corked the tiny flask, and then drew my bow. I aimed for the exposed skin of his neck. It wasn't much but if I had patience, then I wouldn't miss. I inhaled and time seemed to slow. He was in the middle of killing the final Dwarven Centurion, the other automaton having been felled with one swing of his axe. Seconds ticked by like minutes. Finally, when I felt my lungs were about to burst, I released the shaft. It flew straight and true. Just as Diablos butchered his target, the arrow hit. He staggered with a loud gurgle. Shock was clearly written across his face. Who could have shot an arrow at him so precisely at his only weak spot? I stepped around the corner so that he could see his murderer, all the while pulling my hood off…and cursed. The arrow hadn't hit. From his neck poured blood, but only from a scratch. Diablos' body locked up then, and he fell to the side. His War Axe hit the ground with a loud clang. Hissing, I drew my dagger and walked swiftly to the fallen "hero". Standing over him, I could see his eyes lock onto mine. Those damned eyes. My dagger was inches from his throat, but I couldn't draw it across the thick muscle. For what seemed forever, I stood crouched over him, my hand shaking as I fought my urge to not kill him. Eventually, I lost. Instead, I threw off his helmet and hit him as hard as I could in the temple with the handle of my blade. It took another two hits, but finally I was able to render him unconscious. Fucking brute.

**=====}==o **

So, there you have it. Chapter 1. J

I would just like to say that I do not have internet. I have to drive into town and use the library to post my chapters. With that said, I will try to post at least two to three chapters at a time, and I'll **TRY** to post weekly. No guarantees though, because my husband has a job with a lot of hours, and he's like my editor. Plus, he's responsible for all of Diablos' actions for the most part…

Anyways! I hope you all liked it. We definitely enjoyed writing the first chapter. J We would love it if you gave us your honest opinions and reviewed. We are open to suggestions, questions, and comments, no matter how big, bad, or small. I hope everyone has a wonderful day/evening/and or night. Thanks again for reading!


	2. Chapter 2: Diablos

**Alright. Here's chapter 2. We decided to have an idea and switch their POV's back and forth. Sometimes it will be two chapters with Ras'Nae and two with Diablos, etcetera. It depends on how much time the hubby has to help. He basically wrote this chapter, and I'm spicing it up a bit. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. **

**All credits go to the creators of Skyrim, for without them we wouldn't have our two fiends. Ras'Nae and Diablos are our own characters in a sense, so we credit ourselves to them. **

**Rated MA for violence, language, gore, and sexual content.**

**=====}==o ..:::Chapter 2: Diablos:::.. o==={====**

I'm tired of this. I just killed the fifth or sixth assassin. I've fucking lost count and really, it's getting old. After this one, I decided I'd piss off the infamous Listener and leave a note in the little elf's body. How easy this one had been to kill, almost too easy. It was like killing a child. Fucking insulting. The little twit, not knowing who the hell I was, actually came up to me and asked if she could find Diablos the Orc. Like I'm not a fucking beacon as it is. I laughed in her face. She was clearly confused, but obviously stupid as a goat. Not only was I wearing my General StormCloak armor, Wuuthrad was strapped across my back. There isn't another War Axe like it. To add to it, I had a crowd of drunken soldiers around me, singing of my victories, clasping my arm, and telling me how ruthless I was. How much more obvious could it be that I was Diablos, Leader of the Companions, General of the StormCloak army, breaker of hearts and necks.

I gave the little elf the sweetest of smiles that an Orc like myself could manage. This only confused her more. Slowly, I pulled my Orcish dagger from my hip and held it up. Ah, how the fire light caught it nicely. Alarm crossed her face now. Why would this big, hulking Orc pull a dagger? It was then I could see that it finally crossed her walnut sized brain who I was. Laughing dementedly, I sliced her neck then. The soldiers around me jumped back, cursing and then laughing. Her face was euphoric to me. The horror. The astonishment. Maybe even a little betrayal? Ha ha ha! Who knew, and who cared? I did a little fancy blade work then, since she seemed to want to stand there, her head about to fall off. Across her chest my blade went, like a hot knife through butter. Another flick of the blade and her bowels spilled out. Still, the little sack of meat wouldn't fall. I lifted up my heavy boot and kicked her back. She landed a couple of yards away with a satisfactory _crunch!_ Ah, how I love that sound. My men laughed, and I laughed with them. Blood covered my armor and the fire caught it nicely. Beautiful, I would say. Still laughing, I called for a piece of paper and charcoal, and scratched out in my scraggly handwriting:

"_Try again, Listener."_

Then, using the same blade I had killed her with, I stabbed the note to her chest, right above her breast, in her heart. Flipping a young soldier a gold Septim, I pointed to the body. "Take her Northwest of here where she'll be found by the scum who sent her. Oh, and careful not to knock that dagger out. It's a gift for the Listener." I boomed with laughter then as the boy paled a little at his task. However, he dare not defy me and lifted up the body onto the nearest horse, setting off quickly less I give another gruesome task. I walked back over to the fire and grabbed my mighty tankard of mead.

"To blood, guts, and glory, mates! May the Devine look down upon us and tell us to stay the hell away!"

To drunk to really care what I was saying, the men roared in drunken cheer and we downed the mead.

The next morning, my men awoke groaning of headaches and aching bellies. I woke feeling refreshed and rejuvenated to say the least. Kicking the little whore from my bedroll, I stood in the camp in nothing but my loincloth. I often liked to show my power and brawn in the morning. I felt it encouraged my men…or frightened them! Breathing in the morning air, I noticed a carrier stepping up timidly to me. He looked as afraid as a bunny is of a fox. I chuckled.

"What is it, boy? Stare at me any longer and I'd think your infatuated," I roared, causing a few men to chuckle. The boy jumped almost out of his skin. "I-I have brought you a letter, s-sire."

"Have you now? Well, don't just stand there, cretin. Tell me what it says!"

"It's from Olaf, s-sire. He says I have found one of the seven Elder Scrolls. It lies within the deepest recesses of the Dwarven City, Alftand. Here are the keys to use to activate the globe. You'll know what I mean. Beware. There are still Dwarven guards roaming the halls. Be safe, my friend, and may you return successful!"

I took the keys from the boy as he removed them from his knapsack. Odd little things they were. Different shapes and such. Looking back at the boy, I laughed once more. "Olaf has always been such a long winded fellow! Anyhow, return to him and tell him that I'll set off immediately for said scroll. Grab yourself a bite to eat, lad, and then leave." I gave him two Septims for his trouble and then returned to my tent for my armor. A couple of my men came up to the tent. "What is it," I asked as I buckled the many pieces of the Dragonplate Armor.

"We'd like to come with you to Alftand, General."

I laughed and looked at them. "Why would I want a bunch of muttonchops following me in a Dwarven city, full of traps and what-nots? You'd probably get in the way, and then I'd have your blood on my hands. Ulfric isn't fond of me killing my men, no matter the cause." They seemed a little crest-fallen at my words, and I sighed.

"I know you would like to come, to have my back, but it will be much easier if I go by myself. I'd like to just go in, grab the Scroll, and come out. Easy as pie. It wouldn't settle in my belly well if something happened to any of you. You'll have your chance to fight with me someday. Don't worry."

I clasped one of the men on the shoulder, and they seemed to brighten up. They left and I continued my task. The lazy Nord woman hadn't gotten out of my bedroll yet, so I kicked her gently enough. Once she stopped bitching and grumbling, I had her help me with my armor. Once dressed, I returned to the middle of the camp. I looked at my men and said," stand back!"

Looking up to the sky, I used my Shout, calling "Snow Hunter Wing", I summoned Odahviing. The dragon's roar rang out over the horizon. Instantly, my men took up arms, thinking we were under attack. I raised my hand and then brought it down. Tentatively, they lowered their weapons. I smiled. Even though I had killed many dragons over the past few years, Odahviing had proven to be a close friend and advisor. After he circled around for a few times, he lowered to the ground. It shook as the huge dragon landed. Striding out of the camp, I walked up to the golden giant beast. He lowered his massive head and looked at me with one large eye.

"You have summoned me, Dovaking?"

"Yes. It seems my friend has found an Elder Scroll in Alftand."

Odahviing lifted his lip in what was his version of a smile. "Ah, an Elder Scroll in a Dwarven City. How clever," he mused. "You wish to fly there instead of walk?"

I nodded. "Yes. I haven't been up in the skies lately, and I'd like to feel the clouds on my face. Is there a problem?" Odahviing let out a deep chuckle. "Not at all, Dovaking. Climb on and I will take you to Alftand."

The massive dragon knelt down, and I grabbed one of his many neck spikes, hoisting myself up onto the grove between his neck and shoulders. It was a snug fit, but my armor protected me from any stabbings. Once I was settled in, Odahviing let out a mighty roar and then leaped into the sky. My men scattered in fear. Odahviing let out a jet of flame harmlessly into the sky as he laughed. He loved to torment the men.

Once we took flight and entered the clouds, it wasn't long before we came upon some mountains. Spotting a few Frost Trolls, I grinned. Ah, what an easy target. I indicated to Odahviing to drop down. He had spotted the Frost Trolls as well, and he landed a little ways away. Climbing down from his back, Odahviing chuckled. "You can't control yourself, can you?"

"I have a little grudge against the white monkeys. I can't let any Frost Troll live." I drew Wuuthrad and began to sneak around to the Frost Trolls. They were busy picking on an Elk they had killed just recently. Unable to contain myself, I began to laugh. The Frost Trolls jumped up, beating their chests as they looked for me. I was easily spotted and I stood up straight, gripping my axe in one hand. I used my other to hit my chest.

"Come on, you skeever asses! Come at me!" They roared and began to sprint towards me. I roared back, planting my feet. The first one reached me and I blocked his thick arm as it came down on me. Twisting around, I hacked Wuuthrad into it's side. The creature bellowed out in pain, but was not dead. Tearing my axe from it's flesh, I stepped back a pace as the other Troll finally reached me. The sight of it's mate injured only infuriated the creature more. It roared in my face and then came at me in blind fury. I easily side stepped it, and slammed the spike at the top of the weapon into it's spine. It howled and tried to turn to grab me, but I chopped off it's head. A fountain of blood sprayed up and I laughed. The other injured Troll began to run as it saw it's mate die. I couldn't stop laughing. "There's no escape from death, Troll!" I then quickly drew my bow, notched an arrow, and shot the creature through the back of the head. Going to retrieve my arrow, I chuckled. The long shaft had gone through the skull and out through the top eye. There was no getting the arrow back.

"Keep it," I said to the dead beast, kicking the body. "A memento, though I doubt you'll need it in Oblivion!" After searching the Troll's nest for anything of use, I returned to Odahviing. He took one look at my blood covered armor. "Successful, I presume?"

"Hah! Of course," I said as I climbed back onto him. "Frost Trolls don't taste very good," Odahviing commented as he began to climb up the mountain a little so he could get a better take off point. "I've never had Troll meat," I said, thinking about it. "Good. It's tough and has this disgusting aftertaste, no matter how charred." I chuckled at that. "I'll take your warning." Odahviing and I laughed together for a moment, and then he found a good spot. He unfurled his wings and jumped into the sky.

Odahviing made it to Alftand in short time. He landed on the plain below. "Stay safe, Dovaking," he said before taking off again, disappearing over the mountain. I drew in a deep breath. "Smells like death," he said cheerfully. Drawing Wuuthrad, I set the head of the blade on my shoulder casually as I began to take the path up to Alftand. The entrance to the city was in my sights when I heard a cat-like roar. Looking up, a family of three snowy sabre cats climbed down from an alcove. Their reddish eyes were staring at me with an intent to kill. I grinned and wielded Wuuthrad.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty," I taunted. The largest of the cats, an old female from what I could tell, paused for a moment. Oh, was the big Orc wielding the huge axe scary? I lowered my axe and roared at them. "Come on!" This jolted the cats and they hissed. As one, they pounced on me like a mouse. Sharp claws narrowly missed my face. I took a step back. "Whoa!"

Swinging my axe down, it hit the smallest cat in the shoulder. It cried out in pain and I quickly finished it off by pulling the axe out and then hacking it into the creature's back. With their den mate disposed of, the cats were even more pissed. They came at me with a wild fury. Their claws bounced off my armor harmlessly. Eventually, the old cat pounced on me. Her weight dragged me to the ground before I could catch myself. Roaring in my face, she began to try to rip my throat out. I dug my hands into the loose skin around her neck and began to squeeze. She still continued to try and kill me until her eyes began to glaze over. Finally in desperate need for air, she climbed off me. I released her, and she began to hack and cough. Quickly grabbing my axe, I lopped off her head. It rolled in front of the last cat. It bent its head, sniffing the bloody mess. It mewed for a moment, and then it's fury returned. Roaring, it lunged. I didn't give it any chance. My axe ran across it's belly in one easy sweep. The cat still landed on me, but I was ready. I threw it to the side and recovered myself for this battle wasn't over.

Two gangly wolves crept up from the brambles, their lips pulled back in a snarl. Oh, this was going to be too easy! It took very little effort on my part to dispose of the creatures, and I finally set off into Alftand. Instantly, I was greeted by gold, gold, and more gold. Ah, this place always made me feel magnificent. "How I would kill for just one of these walls," I said as I drug a gloved hand across the gleaming metal. Thinking about building one such room in my palace located at Solitude, I walked straight into a trap. I heard it trigger and cursed. Four Falmer came running up. One archer, two swordsman, and a shadowmaster. Ugly creatures, Falmer were. I never had liked them. They were disgusting but still had humanistic features that made them too fucking familiar. The archer loosed an arrow, and it bounced off my armor. I laughed. Wielding my axe, it took me a hot minute to dispose of the filthy creatures. One actually even managed to cut me on the wrist where my armor stopped. I sliced him up nicely. At least…I think it was male. I could never tell with these monsters.

Wiping blood from my eyes, I continued along the way. Occasionally, I was confronted by Dwarven contraptions like Spiders and Spheres. Nothing too difficult. Making it to a long corridor with small hallways branching off of it, I stepped carefully. I could feel a trap brewing in this area. Once I reached the middle of the corridor, I relaxed. That was my first mistake. Two Dwarven Centurions lumbered out of the hallways, steam bellowing from them. Unlike animals and creatures, the Centurions weren't calculating. They used their brute force. However, that was my specialty. I used a strong power attack on the first Centurion, disposing it in one hit. Sometimes, my enemies fell too easily. Sometimes, I hardly ever got joy in killing. The second Centurion provided me with a little amusement. The huge automaton managed to knock me back into a wall. I lost my breath, but recovered quickly. I could feel where a bruise would form on my chest. It had been a while since I received one of those. Laughing, I began to hack at the Centurion. It took me seven hits, but finally I was able to dispose of it.

Now, this is where I made my second mistake. Not surveying my surroundings. The Centurion hadn't even hit the ground when an arrow shot out. It scratched my neck, but the amount of blood that poured from the wound was astonishing. I clasped my hand to the wound, thinking my throat had been sliced. Dropping to one knee, I looked up to see who had shot me. As I did, however, I felt a strange sensation course through my body. Fuck. Poison, but it didn't feel like poison. Instead, my body felt like it was locking up. Ah, I had been paralyzed. Who would want me alive? Who was so stupid as to not kill me. The answer surprised me.

A lithe figure stepped out from around the corner of the corridor. It wore all black armor, and I could not see it's face. A long, ebony bow with strange markings was in it's hand. As the figure stepped forward, I could see a fluffy tail underneath the black cape. It pulled it's hood off, and if I could laugh, I would've. A Khajit, and not just any Khajit. I knew who she was instantly. The Listener. Finally, she had found me. Finally, she had come for her revenge. I stared at her as my body slumped over. Well, was this it? After all the battles I had been in, all the people I had killed, was this finally it? Was a little chicken-heart assassin going to kill me? Was the mighty Diablos going to fall because a Khajit drew a blade across his throat? It humored me actually.

She then crouched over me, a dagger in her hand. Here it came. This was it. She had paralyzed me so I couldn't fight back. What a milk drinker. I smiled mentally. I was prepared to die. Let Sithis take me so I could kill him as well. I waited for the sting of the blade. Seconds ticked by. What was taking the bitch so long? Focusing back on her, I could see she was struggling. Why was she struggling? Before I could ponder it longer, she tore of my helm and hit me on the temple. Stars lit up my vision, but I was still awake. Damn, did that bloody hurt! She hit me two more times and then finally, the pain went away and everything faded into **black…**

**o==={====**

**That's the end of Chapter 2. My husband really enjoyed doing Diablos' POV, and I'll have to admit that I enjoyed it as well. Let us know how you liked it. For a little fun, tell us who your favorite character is thus far. We're open to any kind of comment or idea, so please, don't hesitate! Don't forget to click that review button! ****J**


	3. Chapter 3: Ras'Nae

**Hello again, everybody. J I hope everyone enjoyed the last two chapters. In this one, our characters finally have a conversation! John would like to make note that he has decided to change his armor to Daedric armor. He found that he likes how it looks and blah, blah, blah. So, to keep away any confusion, Diablos now wears Daedric armor and always has. **

**As usual, all credits go to their respective parties. Diablos and Ras'Nae belong to us. **

**Rated MA for violence, gore, language, and future sexual content. WARNING: MAJOR SPOILER ALERTS!**

…**..:::::::Chapter Three: Ras'Nae:::::::….**

I think I have lost my mind. Scrambled my brains. There must be something wrong with me. I am just fucking insane or extremely daft. Either way, I had a problem. Laying in the bed of the abandoned shack north of Morthal was Diablos. Looking around, I had a bout of nostalgia. This was where I had first met the traitorous bitch, Astrid. Behind me was the shelf she had sat on. I bet she felt all powerful and noble up there, looking down on me. She had always looked down on me, and that was why she was now dead. Stupid twit.

I looked to my right and could see three skeletons. My initiation into the Dark Brotherhood. Originally, I had killed the spice mouthed mother. She annoyed me to no great end. I'll admit, I gave into my anger. But the bitch had it coming. Then Vasha the Khajit opened his mouth. I have no sentiments for my race. I was never brought up as a Khajit, having been raised by some Nords who lived just a little out of Skyrim. Vasha had disgusted me. Defiler of daughters. I had a real problem with that. So, after Astrid gave me praise for killing the woman, I turned and sliced his neck as well. As for the Nord, I guess they never released him. Poor bloke starved to death in here. Deserves him right though. It appeared as though he had never tried to escape.

Turning back to the Orc, I studied him for a moment. His helm was on the bedside table. I picked up the demented looking helmet. Daedric I think. The firelight from the fireplace glinted off of it, making it look that much more sadistic. Diablos let out a loud snore on the bed and smacked his lips. I glanced at him. Sleeping as he was, he didn't look like the murderer of my Dark siblings. Setting down the helmet, I walked over to him.

Studying his face, I could see the hard wear of battle. He had a few lines around his eyes, but I wouldn't guess him to be more than mid-twenties. His hair was in thick dread locks in the style of a Mohawk. Carefully, I ungloved my hand and then gently touched the hair. Rough. I smirked. It was a definite contrast to my soft, fluffy fur. Looking back to his face, I touched one of the large canines poking out of his lip. By the size of them, he definitely had another race in his blood somewhere. He wasn't full Orc. Those beasts had huge, ugly teeth that stuck out. It reminded me of a pig. I turned my gaze to his eyelids. Those eyes…they had captured me and that was my downfall.

I sighed, turning back around to pace. Babette had been right, the little cunt. I smirked. It was funny. Downright irony. Oh, what was I going to do. My Brotherhood would call for his head. I was betraying them, and for what? A flutter of my heart? I growled in annoyance. Grabbing my bow and quiver from a table, I stormed out of the shack. It would be a while still before the brute woke up. I needed to kill something.

Taking off in a light sprint, I soon came upon a group of bandits, all sitting around a campfire. Not far off, there was a dead Mammoth. I smirked. They had gotten lucky to draw that massive beast away from the herd. It was dangerous work, killing Mammoths. Looking back to the bandits, I crouched and watched them for a while. It was a troop of six, two women and four men. There were five Nords and an Orc. He appeared to be the leader. He looked nothing like Diablos. I found him hideous. His eyes were brown and disgusting. His mandible stuck out and almost touched his thick, pig-like nose. His hair was a tangled mess, falling around his thick head in gray knots.

I carefully drew my bow and an arrow. I aimed, holding my breath. I wanted a bloody kill. My arrow buried in that disgusting eye. The Orc howled in pain, standing up and screaming. My arrow hadn't burrowed far enough to kill him. The troop jumped up, readying their weapons. They would never see me. The Orc pulled the arrow, screaming all the while. And to my astonishment, he pulled out his eye. Blood poured from the wound. I smelt the crimson liquid on the wind, and it aroused me.

Leaving him to his misery, I began to dispatch the Nords. First, I chose a woman. I had a thing against other women. I hated them. I shot her in the heart. The next woman I shot in the stomach. By now, they were guessing my location. As the men started to charge, I shot one in the groin. He dropped, screaming like a banshee. The last two bandits hesitated for a moment. Releasing another shaft, it buried into the blonde Nord's neck. The last one threw up arms and ran away, screaming for his mother.

I stood then, fire in my eyes. He saw me, and instantly dropped down, praying to Talos for mercy. I walked up to him, feeling like the murderer I was. I leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Sithis cries for your soul," I whispered in his ear and then drew my dagger, slicing his throat. I laughed as he fell. Blood sprayed on my face and for a moment, I moaned. It was delicious. I wasn't a vampire, but I still reveled in the blood. It was so erotic, so intense…

I then remembered my Orc. My darling Orc. I needed to finish him off. Walking back to the camp, I looked around for him. All I saw was the dead Nords and the one I had shot in the groin, moaning miserably. I walked over to him and quickly stabbed him in the back. Still, I could not find my Orc. I could smell him nearby though. My eyes darted back and forth, my ears listening intently.

Then, I heard the whistle of an arrow and felt a searing pain in my shoulder. For a moment, I was blinded with pain. I dropped to one knee, gasping. Then, another arrow buried in the ground next to me, just missing my head. I sprung up then, taking off. My long legs carried me back to the abandoned shack quickly. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Shadowmere was outside. He would keep the Orc from coming in if he had followed.

I rested my forehead on the cool wood for a moment, trying to bite my pain. It had been a long time since I had been shot with an arrow, and it hurt like hell. It was then I heard a groan behind me. I whirled, dagger ready, but a huge hand gripped my throat. I choked, dropping my weapon and clawed at the hand. Those beautiful eyes stared at me, slightly unfocused but full of anger.

"Where the fuck am I , Khajit, and who the hell are you?"

I started to gasp as his hand squeezed my throat. How was I supposed to answer wouldn't I couldn't even breath? He seemed to realize this and loosened his grip. I gulped in fresh air, my lungs feeling sweet relief. I then looked at him. "How are you awake so soon," I asked, my voice horse.

He growled angrily, shoving me against the door. The arrow snapped, but dug more into my flesh. I yelped in pain and gritted my teeth. Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't help it. "That wasn't the question," he roared at me. For a moment, I was afraid. And then, I remembered who I was. I growled, hissing in his face. "I am the Listener, Orc! I am the master of the Thieves Guild, and I am your death!" I expected him then to just kill me and be done with it, but he smiled. And then laughed. What the fuck?

"You're not the master of my death. I am, Khajit, or should I say, Listener," he said sarcastically, bowing a little with a fierce grin on his face. That irritated me. I growled and quick as a flash, I had my dagger again and to his throat. I pushed against his throat, the metal biting the skin. "What say you now? Do you believe I'm your death, you disgusting brute?"

"Do it," he said, his voice serious. "Kill me. You'd be doing the world a favor." He pressed against the knife, reopening the wound I had caused earlier. I stared into his eyes for a moment. I could do it. It would be so easy to just end his life, but I couldn't. Like before, I couldn't draw my blade across his face. I hissed, throwing the blade to the side and walking away. "FUCK! Why can't I kill you," I yelled, looking at him. "What is so amazing about you that I can't kill you? I have killed women, men, and children! I have shown no mercy to any living thing, and yet, I can't even slice your fucking throat! WHY?"

"I haven't found someone who's even come this close to killing me. I'd like to know why as well."

I was speechless. For a moment, he seemed…tender. Soft. Like he was admitting a deep secret to me. I felt…honored. Then, I cleared my head. I hardened myself. "I am contracted to kill you. I have to. If I don't, I'll be betraying the Brotherhood and worse, the Night Mother. So, what am I to do?" I walked over to the fire, putting my hand on the mantle. The damned arrow seared in my shoulder, and I winced. He seemed to notice my pain. I could feel his eyes staring into me. Then, his loud boots moved across the floor. I whirled, ready to fight back, but he didn't have the look of one ready to kill. Instead, he seemed at ease.

"Easy," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm just going to help you get that arrowhead out." My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why? Why help me?" He smirked then. ". Maybe I'm feeling a little bit of generosity for not killing me…yet. Who knows, but either way, just shut up and let me help you."

I didn't know whether to trust him or not. I stepped away, my pride taking over, my instincts telling me no. "I'm fine. I don't need your help." This seemed to irritate him. He pulled a dagger hidden in his armor and stepped towards me. My ears flattened against my head, and I hissed. He lunged and I dodged. He cursed, not expecting me to move so fast. I started to go for the thrown dagger, but he blocked my path. I growled menacingly at him and started to draw my bow. He used that time to grab me. I started to try to claw at his face, but he wrapped his arms around me and shoved me to the ground with his weight. He crushed me, and the air was knocked from my lungs. I laid there for a moment, dazed. He rolled me on my stomach and put a knee to my back. I growled and then screamed as he dug his dagger into my shoulder, digging out the arrowhead. The pain was so intense that I blacked out…

…**..::::::::::::::...**

**Alright, there's chapter 3. We know it's a little short, but we're going to post up at least four chapters. We want to get in Diablos' POV and this seemed like a good time to switch. Of course, let us know what you think. All comments and ideas are excepted and welcomed. We would also like to know your favorite character if you haven't already stated it. ****J**** Let us know why you like them to. We hope you all have a nice day/evening/night!**


	4. Chapter 4: Diablos

**Time for chapter 4 and Diablos' POV. ****J**

**As usual, all credits go to respective owners. Ras'Nae and Diablos belong to us.**

**Rated MA for violence, gore, language, and future sexual content. WARNING: MAJOR SPOILER ALERTS!**

…**.::::::::Chapter Four: Diablos:::::::….**

When I awoke, I felt like I had the worst hangover in Skyrim. My head throbbed, my mouth was dry, and my stomach roiled. I looked around for something to drink and could see a stomach full of liquid. I opened it and smelt fresh water. I downed most of it and poured the rest over my head. It helped, and then I was able to survey my surroundings.

I was in some sort of abandoned shack. In the corner where the remains of what seemed like three bodies. I couldn't tell their races, but one looked to be a Khajit by the fur. A fire crackled, meaning that someone else was here. Or had been. No one living was here now, unless you counted the mouse scurrying in some spoiled hay under a broken table. I sat back on the bed, rubbing my neck. I felt a wound and tried to remember where I had gotten it. Then, it came back to me.

I had been in Alftand, searching for an Elder Scroll when that stupid bitch from the Dark Brotherhood shot me and paralyzed me. She had been so close and ready to kill me, but she hadn't. Why? Why can't anyone just finish me off. I was lost in thought whenever the only door suddenly opened and in came the fucking Khajit. She seemed disheveled, like she had been running for her life. She was panting, shaking, and looked about ready to cry. Had someone taken her milk? I smirked but then saw my chance. Finally deal with the nuisance the Brotherhood caused me.

I stood up and crept up behind her as quietly as I could. My boots thumped on the ground, but she was so upset over something that she didn't even hear me. The fool. A floorboard creaked, and then she whirled. I quickly grabbed her throat. It was then I saw her face. She was pretty…for a Khajit. My head then throbbed from all the beating she had done to it earlier, and my grip tightened around her scrawny neck.

My vision blurred for a moment, but I managed to focus. "Where the fuck am I, Khajit, and who the hell are you," I growled. I knew who she was, but I wanted to hear her say it. I want that fucking Khajit to admit to the murderer she is so that way when I go to kill her, she knows how gutless she really is.

In my anger, I could see I was strangling her. It didn't take much, but I wouldn't be able to get an answer out of her this way. She could hardly breath, never the less talk. Loosening my grip, she began to gulp in air. It humored me a little, but I didn't let it show. I literally held her life in my hands.

"How are you awake so soon," she croaked. Where was that milky sweet voice I had heard she possessed? I wanted to laugh, but I decided to play to my name. I growled at her and shoved her back against the door. I could see tears welling up in her blue eyes. I didn't feel I had pushed her that hard. Was she really that much of a weakling? Probably.

"That wasn't the question," I roared in her face, trying to scare and intimidate her. I was a little pissed she had shot me, and then given me this horrible migraine. I could see the fear in her face, and I felt accomplished. Then, that fear turned to anger and hate. I think I liked that look more. It made her a little bit more...erotic. I felt something stir in my stomach, but that was probably just because I was hungry.

She hissed and growled at me like a little cat. "I am the Listener, Orc! I am the master of the Thieves Guild, and I am your death!" My death? Oh, I couldn't keep it in anymore. I let out a booming laugh and that confused the fuck out of her.

"You're not the master of my death. I am, Khajit, or should I say, Listener?" I rolled my eyes at her. It wasn't like I hadn't heard someone say it before, but here she was, her life in my hands, and she had the gall to say she was the master of my death. I admired her ferocity, but then the little weasel slipped out of my grasp and before I could recover, she had that pig-sticker at my throat again. She pushed it to my skin, and I looked at her. The fire in her eyes...well, it turned me on a little.

"Do it," I said, serious. I had had so many threats these past few years, I just wanted someone to actually carry it out. "Kill me. You'd be doing the world a favor." I pushed against the knife, reopening my wound. It stung a little, I'll admit, but nothing I couldn't deal with. Hell, I had almost been gutted in my early years, and I still didn't let it show it hurt like fire.

She was staring at me again. She was looking directly into my eyes, like she was searching for my soul. What soul? Or maybe, my eyes unsettled her. I had that affect. Orcs never had blue eyes like mine. She suddenly hissed and threw the blade to the side. I would've never done that.

"FUCK! Why can't I kill you," she screeched at me. Why did women do that? "What is so amazing about you that I can't kill you? I have killed women, men, and children! I have shown no mercy to any living thing, and yet, I can't even slice your fucking throat! WHY?"

Haven't we all killed someone? But her words, they went straight to my heart. I often wondered that same question. Why was I so invincible? So unbreakable? I wasn't suffering, but for once, I'd like to be the one who was seriously injured. Everyone fell before my blade, and it was depressing how easy it was.

"I haven't found someone who's even come this close to killing me," I said, my voice serious, maybe a little sad. "I'd like to know why as well."

I couldn't look at her. She would see the sadness in my eyes, and I had already messed up showing her my weakness. She was quiet as well, and the silence was terrible. I'd rather her screech and yell at me.

"I am contracted to kill you. I have to. If I don't, I'll be betraying the Brotherhood and worse, the Night Mother. So, what am I to do?"

The Night Mother...I had heard of her. Wasn't she some dried up corpse the little milk drinkers worshiped? A bunch of bull if you ask me. I looked up at her and saw that she had walked over to the fire place. It was then I noticed the broken arrow in her shoulder. Ah, so that's why she was in pain when I slammed her in the door. I had to admit, she was pretty good at hiding her pain. I stood there for a moment, wondering what to do. The silence again. Fuck, I hated it.

I started to move towards her and she whirled around, all wild and crazy. I wanted to smile, but she was like a cornered animal. I held up my hands, trying to use a calming voice which was impossible for me. "Easy," I said. "I'm just going to help you get that arrowhead out." She narrowed her eyes at me. She was suspicious, and she had good reason to be.

"Why? Why help me?" Straight to the point, wasn't she? I smirked. Why did I want to help her? It wouldn't bother me one bit for her to stay in pain, but I hated the stupid silence that had brewed. And, I knew it was going to hurt like hell to get that arrowhead out. Payback for my migraine.

"Maybe I'm feeling a little bit of generosity for not killing me...yet," I lied smoothly. "Who knows, but either way, just shut up and let me help you." She stood there for a moment, calculating her next move. I could see her bunching her muscles to move. "I'm fine. I don't need your help," she said arrogantly. It irritated me a little. Here I was, offering to help and she was being stingy? Now I really wanted to hurt her. I pulled a dagger from my waist and this set her off. She hissed and took off like an arrow. I jumped at her, but she was too slippery. Damn cat. "Damn it, come here," I cursed, then saw her look at the thrown dagger in the corner. I moved and blocked her path. That really pissed her off, and she started to draw her bow. She was quick, but I was faster. I grabbed her, crushing her against my rough armor. The little bitch started to claw at my face, but I pushed my weight against her. We fell to the floor and I felt her loose her breath beneath me. While she was dazed, I dug my knee into her back. I know it hurt her, but I didn't really care. I was panting a little from trying to catch her. I gripped my dagger and then pushed it into the wound. She had been growling but it turned into a scream so loud that it hurt my ears. She only lasted a few seconds before she blacked out.

I was a little upset she had blacked out so quickly, but her screeching hadn't helped my migraine. I worked quickly, get the arrowhead out. It was only an iron arrow, but it didn't appear too rusty. I stood and walked to the fire. Heating my blade, I moved back to her and burned the wound shut. The smell of burning hair filled my nostrils, but it didn't bother me. I had burned down camps with bodies in it so many times, I couldn't count it.

I stood up, wiping my brow. Her blood was on my hands, but instead of enjoying it, it upset me a little. What the…I growled a little and started to walk to the door to go outside but stopped. I looked back at her. She lay on the floor, her face relaxed. She looked almost innocent laying there. I sighed and walked back to her. Picking her up, I was shocked at how light she was. Little stick. I tossed her on the bed, not gently at all. I wasn't that fucking sweet. Looking down at her, my eyes roved. I had never been with a Khajit before, so I wondered how that was. Hmm…Ah, look at me. Being a pervert.

I smirked at that and walked out. A bitch could try to kill me, and I'd still think about rolling in the hay with her. I walked a few paces from the door into the cold air. Kneeling down, I scooped up some clean snow. I got her blood off my hands and then I ate some snow. It helped my dry mouth and headache. Sitting there, I was surveying my surroundings when I heard a beastly version of a whinny. I stood and turned and was amazed. Before me stood a massive horse, black as night. His eyes were glowing red and he looked just as dangerous as he was beautiful.

I slowly walked up to him, whistling softly. He tossed his head, looking down at me while stepping back. I grabbed a branch of snow berries from a bush by my waist and offered them to him. His ears flicked back but he stopped backing up. I moved closer, inch by inch. Finally, I was able to touch him. He sniffed the berries, his breath rising up in steam. He then took the branch from me, munching noisily on it. I smiled and touched his neck. He lifted his head again, but didn't move. I began to stroke the muscular neck, admiring the steed, when he suddenly reared up, screaming. I looked around and could see an Orc walking up with a fresh wound on his face. As he got closer, I saw that he was missing an eye.

"Have you seen a Khajit," he asked, his voice rough. I crossed my arms, studying him. He looked every inch a bandit. "What Khajit," I replied. He growled at me. "Don't play dumb with my, mixed blood. I've followed her foot prints and blood up here. She took my eye, and I shot her. She slipped away and now I've come to take her life." An immense anger and hatred stirred inside of me. He had hurt…oh hell. I didn't even know her name. But it surprised me how pissed I was that he had shot her. I gave him a smooth smile, though I knew the fire burned in my eyes.

"Oh, that Khajit. Yeah, she's in the shack there." He stared at me, and for a moment, I thought he be stupid enough to challenge me. But then he turned and went to the shack. He drew a homemade dagger and stepped inside. I followed him, the arrowhead still in my hand. He saw her on the bed and started to creep forward. "Oh, wait," I said. He paused and turned towards me. I smiled. "You chose the wrong day to extract revenge." He started to say something, but never finished his sentence. Using the same arrowhead he had used to hurt the Khajit, I cut his throat. His blood sprayed out and then he fell. This time, I enjoyed the blood. I got a sick satisfaction killing him, more so than usual. I looked to the sleeping Khajit. Why did she affect me this way?

…:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::...

**And that's chapter 4! ****J It was a lot of fun to write these last two. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as we did writing it. Please remember to review! **


	5. Chapter 5: Ras'Nae

**Let me start off by apologizing. I know it has been a very long time since we posted. A lot of stuff happened these past few months in our personal lives that we just didn't have the time. ****L**** We do really apologize. Also, John was a little upset there were no reviews for a while. ****J**** To whoever posted the first review, you gave us the energy to start back up again! We thank you so much.**

**And this chapter will contain a surprise. ;D**

**As usual, all credits go to their respective owners. Ras'Nae and Diablos belong to my husband and myself.**

**Rated MA for language, gore, sexual content, and violence. **

…**.::::::::Chapter Five: Ras'Nae:::::::….**

I was home. Not the thieves' Guild, not the Brotherhood. I was back home, on the border of Skyrim. I was a young girl, sitting at our table. My beautiful mother, Felicia, was next to the fire, stirring a thick stew. I could smell the vegetables, spices, and meat cooking in the delicious liquid. She looked back at me, her sun bleached hair pulled back from her forehead. My mother was a beautiful woman, and every year she aged, she was that much more gorgeous.

She smiled at me, and I warmed from my tufted ear, to my bushy tail. She pulled a wooden bowl off the mantel and poured me a helping of her stew. She brought it to me, and my mouth watered. I picked up my spoon, brought the stew to my lips, and then I woke up.

My first sight was a wooden wall. A cool breeze blew in through the gaps between the boards, and I could see it was dark outside. My mouth began to water as my nose picked up my mother's stew. What was she doing here? I lifted myself up on my elbows and groaned. A dull pain throbbed in my shoulder. I laid back against the bed, my mind slowly working everything together.

"So your awake now, Listener?"

At the sound of his voice, the haze clouding my mind lifted, and I sat up quickly. My shoulder protested, but I ignored it. "You bastard! You held me down and dug out that arrow! I didn't want your help!" My tail lashed angrily behind me. I knew I sounded like a brat, but I didn't care. I didn't want his help. I didn't want him to see me vulnerable. I didn't want him to worry…

"Your welcome," he said, his voice a little rough. He was slowly stirring a bubbling stew. My stomach growled loud enough for him to hear. He smirked, but that was all. I crossed my arms over my belly and looked around the room. It was then that I saw the puddle of blood in front of the door. A large puddle of blood.

"What happened there," I asked, curiously. I walked over to the door, opening it. The blood had seeped into the snow outside, and I could see large drops of blood following behind the hut. "Your friend stopped by. He was a nuisance, so I killed him." I racked my brain. Friend? Who would know I was here, and had he killed another of my Brothers? I looked back at him. Obviously, the confusion was written across my face as he explained further.

"An Orc bandit tracked you up here. He was missing an eye and was wanting to kill you. I guess he thought I would just let him march in here and murder you in cold blood." He looked back to the stew, tasting it with a finger. I just stood there, unable to say anything. Why hadn't he just let the Orc kill me? I was grateful, yes, but I would've…no. I wouldn't have. I would've killed the bastard and enjoyed every moment of it. I turned back to look outside. Shadowmere was nowhere in sight. I wasn't worried. He often wandered here and there, doing whatever he pleased.

The winter air began to bite through my armor and fur, so I closed the door. Once again, my stomach growled at the scent of the stew. Slowly, I crept up behind Diablos and peeked over his shoulder. The liquid bubbling in the pot was thick and hearty. I could see some onions, carrots, and potatoes in the broth as well as some sort of meat.

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop drooling over my shoulder," he teased slightly, looking at me from the corner of his eye. Embarrassed, I leaned back. I started to rummage around the hut until I found two suitable bowls. There weren't any silverware, but at this point and time, it did not matter. Using some snow from outside, I washed the bowls as well as I could, then brought them back to Diablos. He poured the hot stew into the bowls, and we ate with our fingers and drinking the liquid. All through the supper, neither of us uttered a word, which was beginning to make me uncomfortable. Occasionally, I'd look up from my meal to catch him looking at me. Our eyes would lock for a moment, and then we'd both look back down at our food.

After supper, Diablos worked the fire back up. He had taken off his armor and now wore a simple tan cloth shirt and leggings. I didn't wear anything underneath my armor, so I was unable to undress. As he worked the fire, I stared at the large muscles in his arms. He wasn't as broad as an Orc, but he wasn't as small as a human either.

"Are you mixed," I asked after almost an hour of us not speaking. My voice sounded strange in the quiet hut. He turned his head to look at me for a few moments, studying me as if revealing his race would give me some sort of tactical advantage or something.

"Yes. My mother was an Orc, and my father was a Nord. My mother died giving birth to me, so my father raised me as best he could. He wasn't the best role model, but we made it." Those blue eyes burned into me, and I felt a heat rise in me.

"I never knew my birth parents," I explained. "My mother, a Nord woman, found me in her barn with a note attached to me. Apparently, my parents were unable to take care of me. Instead of dumping me in the nearest orphanage, she raised me as my own. She never remarried after her husband died a few years before in a bar fight. So, it was just us."

He smiled a little. "And what a perfect little murderer you turned out to be." He had obviously meant it to be a joke, but it hit me. I looked down in my lap, where my tail was curled up. "Yes, well. My mother doesn't know my profession. I told her that I work for a trading company. I send her a bagful of Septims every other month to help support her since she's too old to work her fields. I also have one of my agents from the thieves' guild living with her undercover as a maid so that no harm can come to her."

Why was I pouring myself to him? Why was I divulging such personal information to a stranger. Biting the inside of my cheek, I leaned against the edge of the bed. The silence drifted over us again, and I couldn't help but start to drift off. As I started to feel the heaviness of sleep, Diablos stood up.

"God damn it! What is wrong with you?" He rushed over to me, jerking me up by the shoulders and shaking me. I gasped as he startled me and my shoulder throbbed. He continued to shake me for another second and then stopped. I looked at him, my breath catching in my throat. His eyes were ablaze, but not with anger. Not with frustration. With lust. My stomach clenched, and I found I was afraid. I was truly afraid because of how much this man wanted me. This wasn't some drunk. This wasn't one of my guild members that I was having a fling with. No, this was a magnificent man who I was wild about, and he was wild about me. We wanted to ravish each other, and I would let him. I wanted him to.

As he shifted closer to my face, my breath caught. He heard it, and then narrowed his eyes. "You have placed a spell on me," he growled angrily, throwing me down. I hit the floor with an _oof!_ and felt dizzy for a moment. "A spell? What spell? I am no mage," I said as I stood, my legs shaky. He looked back at me. Fire burned in his eyes. Now he was mad. He blamed me. He blamed me for his feelings. Anger bubbled in my belly as well. I narrowed my eyes, my ears flattening against my head. "Don't blame me, because you can't control yourself," I hissed. "What did you think I was going to do? Oh, you saved me. Oh, I am a damsel in distress! Remember this, Diablos. I was originally here to kill you, and I intend to do it."

He stiffened for a moment. I was ready. He was going to lash out, and I was going to kill him. It caused a wave of despair to sweep over me to think of him dead, but my Brotherhood had been there longer than this man. I would not betray them. I would not-

Diablos closed the space between us and slammed him mouth to mine. I protested for a moment, but then my body took over. I wrapped my arms around his thick neck, his wrapping around the small of my back. My body crushed into his, and our tongues met in a tangled mess. His saliva drove me crazy. His smell made my stomach clench in the most beautiful of ways. Before I knew it, I was pushed onto the floor. He leaned up, yanking his shirt off. I took my chance and knocked him over, straddling him in the same maneuver. I fumbled with the buckles on my ribs. He helped and it wasn't long before my top was off. He stopped and stared.

"I've never been with a Khajit," he admitted. I smiled. His hands reached up to cup my breasts. There were covered with the softest of furs, but standing out from the thin black and gray fur were my pink nipples. They contrasted greatly, and he fondled them with attention. I moaned, my head rolling back. He leaned up, his mouth covering my left breast, his hand squeezing my right. Pleasure rolled through my body, and my hips involuntarily began to grind into him. He grunted and looked up. His eyes were white fire. "I want you," he growled, stirring me up more. He put his hand around the back of my neck and we were kissing once more.

In a small struggle, we pulled my bottoms off. In the struggle, I had made it back to the floor. His hand was fondling me. My arms were around his neck. My womanhood was the same as a humans. The hair thinned out like on my breasts and just gave it a nice dusting of soft fur. He had been surprised by this for only a moment before his hand took over. His thick finger slid in and out of me, causing my body to tremble.

"Oh god, Diablos," I panted, my claws digging into the back of his neck. This drove him over the edge. He couldn't contain himself anymore. He ripped the front of his pants open and pushed himself in. I was wet enough that it didn't bother me, but I couldn't have cared if it had. He filled me to my core, and I screamed. There was a small explosion in the back of my head, one like I had never experienced before. He struggled for a moment above me, his hands squeezing my hips.

"What's wrong," I managed to say, and he shook his head. He then pulled back and thrust into me again. I screamed again, and my body convulsed. He groaned above me, and thrust again, again, again. We picked up a rhythm that had my head and body reeling. We switched positions, me straddling him. I rode him, his body bucking up inside me. Each deep thrust caused me to see stars. I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He was grunting and moaning. We sounded like two frost trolls in their mating romps. As soon as I couldn't take anymore, he threw me back to the floor. I rolled on my stomach, he grabbed my hips, and began to thrust from behind. My tail flicked to the side as we had raw, unimaginable sex. With one final thrust, Diablos was finished. I had finished long before, several times. He fell on his side, dragging me with him. His member throbbed inside of me, spilling his seed inside of me. It didn't matter. Khajit could only breed with Khajit. I began to purr as my body hummed with intense pleasure. It wasn't long before I drifted off into a deep sleep, Diablos' arms wrapped around me, his heart pounding against my back.

Before I was completely asleep, I heard him whisper, "Ras'Nae."

…:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::...

**And that's how an Orc and Khajit have sex. ****J**** I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I certainly had fun writing it. My hubby was my inspiration. ;D Please remember to review!**


	6. Chapter 6: Diablos

**Hi, everyone! :D Well, this is going to show a little history of Ras'Nae and Diablos. This chapter took me a little bit to write. I had originally started out showing Diablos before Ras'Nae woke up and then it was going to continue after their love making, but I felt that was too confusing. So, it is a bit shorter than I had hoped for. I also understand that Diablos and Ras'Nae are starting to blend together a little. My husband has kind of stopped putting in on this story. :/ His new job drains most of his time, so I'm solo on this. I hope it won't hinder the story. **

**Skyrim and all it's contents go to their respective owners. Ras'Nae and Diablos belong to John and I.**

**Rated MA for sexual content, language, gore, and violence. SPOILER ALERTS.**

…:::::::::::::::::**Chapter VI: Diablos**::::::::::::::...

I couldn't believe what had just happened. Next to me, she slept. Her body was naked, smelling of sex. She was sleeping soundly, content. I could believe how beautiful she was. My hand trailed along her arm, down to her waist. I wanted to take her again. I wanted to ravage her body. I had never been with a Khajit before, and the newness of her body drew me back for more. I wanted her, I needed her, and it frightened me. I had never wanted a woman before like I wanted her. It terrified me, and I knew I had to leave. I couldn't stay. I was Diablos, the general to the StormCloak Army, Harbinger of the Companions, and slayer of dragons. I was not a man to settle down. I couldn't stop everything to be with a woman like this Khajit. I didn't even know her name.

I stood slowly, careful not to stir her. She didn't need to wake to me leaving. There was no telling how she would react. I quietly picked up my armor and carried it outside. It took me a few minutes to get it on myself, but I managed. Strapping Wuuthrad to my back, I looked out across the snow. The coast was to the North. I figured I was close to Morthal by the environment. To the South, I could see the land turning to marsh. I would head to Morthal and decide where to go from there.

I had passed an old burial ground, ransacked and destroyed, and was closing in on Morthal when a thought crossed my mind. The Dark Brotherhood wasn't going to stop trying to kill me. Someone had contacted the Brotherhood, and they wanted me dead. It didn't surprise me that someone wanted me gone from this world. I had stepped on a lot of people to get where I was. It wouldn't surprise me if someone from the StormCloak army did it. I wasn't a true Nord. It sometimes caused a ruckus, since Ulfric was trying to drive out other races from Skyrim. However, I had proven himself time and time again, and I had gained the High King's trust.

The sun was low in the sky when I made it to Morthal. I passed a lumber mill and down a bridge. The marsh covering most of Morthal and surrounding it gave a stagnant smell. I assumed that the inhabitants of Morthal were used to it, but it reeked to me. As I came upon the Moorside Inn, a few Morthal citizens were sitting on the porch. They stopped their conversation as soon as they saw me. They narrowed their eyes suspiciously towards me. I didn't blame them. I looked very intimidating in my Daedric armor. I removed my helm as I stepped up to the porch. As soon as they saw who I was, they relaxed. Ulfric had control of Morthal, but he was pretty lenient on his soldiers here. However, I was known far and wide.

"Well, what brings you to our little swamp hole, General?" a man asked, standing up and leaning on the banister. I looked at him for a moment, judging if he was any type of threat. Not at all. He was in his late forties, a Nord, and just being nosey. "I was just in the area, and I decided to stop and get me a drink." The man nodded in agreement and returned to his friends. The war had never really reached Morthal. The Jarl had surrendered in glee, and the town had actually prospered, since Ulfric had sent a hefty amount of Septims to show his appreciation for their cooperation.

The Inn was almost empty. There were a few citizens, and two StormCloak soldiers. The man and the woman were singing along with a ballad that was being played about Ulfric. They raised their tankards, mead spilling over the rims in a mess. They cheered, being the loudest in the establishment. I shook my head, the Listener and her body pushed from my mind for the time being.

"Now, your supposed to be setting an example for these fine citizens," I boomed, startling everyone in the room. The soldiers looked over at me, and I recognized them as Sylvia and Erik. They had been in my command when we took over Morthal.

"General Diablos! Long time no see, sir," Sylvia greeted, standing up. I had slept with the girl in the first few nights here in Morthal, and by the look on her face, she remembered it. I grinned at her and wrapped my thick arm around her shoulder. She wasn't a fragile, bird-like woman like the Khajit. She had muscles. She could hold her own in a battle with a sword or an axe. She was the kind of woman that I would've settled down with if I ever planned on it, which I didn't. Her hand trailed to my breastplate, and I glanced down at her. She was beaming up at me. It almost made me laugh. It seemed I broke a woman's heart everyday. I separated from her and looked at Erik. He seemed a little upset by Sylvia's affection towards me. I wanted to laugh. The poor man obviously had a thing for her, but the moment I walked into the room, he was forgotten. I'd have to keep an eye on him. A jealous man was a dangerous man.

"So, what does a war hero have to do around here to get some mead," I roared, scaring the little bar wench that was sweeping the floor. "I will get you your drinks, sir," she said, taking her broom with her as she went up to the man standing behind the counter. I watched her go, her thin skirt falling nicely around her bum. I smirked and then turned back to my soldiers. "So, how goes Morthal," I asked, sitting down at the table. Sylvia sat next to me, and Erik sat across from her.

"It goes well," he responded. "Sir." He picked up his drink and watched me over the rim as he drank. I returned the look until it unsettled him, and he looked away. "Oh, Morthal is Morthal," Sylvia said in a flirty tone. "Why don't you tell us what's going on in the outside world." She made sure to lean on me ever so slightly. She was a pretty girl, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. She had a small scar on her cheek that added to her prettiness, but she wasn't beautiful. Not like-

"It's getting good," I said quickly. "We're steadily driving out more and more little Imperial camps. I think we've gotten the majority of them out. Ulfric is handling being a High King wonderfully. We haven't had any major rebellions from the cities yet." Sylvia nodded, hanging on my every word. "I heard you killed another dragon. That must be magnificent to see you kill a beast like a dragon." She was laying it on so thick, that I was beginning to find it annoying. Normally, I would've just taken her to a room, given her a quick romp, and then been on my day. However, how hard she was trying to get me to have sex with her was irritating. It was too easy. Where was the fun? I knew she wanted me. I knew what was going to happen. But, I couldn't help but think of the Khajit. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I wanted her, desired her. Her body aroused me in the most wonderful of ways. She alone aroused me. My position in life meant nothing to her.

I sighed in frustration. I didn't want to think about her. The wench finally brought my drink, and I downed half of it. A manly burp escaped my lips, and I deliberately aimed it at Sylvia, hoping to turn her off. It didn't. Her constant touching was like a fly buzzing in my ear. "Fuck off," I finally growled at her. She paused for a moment, hurt written across her face. She must've thought we had something. Stupid girl. "I don't want you," I continued, the mead causing me to have a bite. "It was just a couple of quick fucks, so take it as it was and leave me alone. You look desperate and you look like a slut." I didn't care I was being harsh.

Tears brimmed her eyes for a moment, and then she hardened. She slid away from me a little and started to sip on her mead. Erik seemed to have mixed feelings about me shunning Sylvia, but I didn't care anymore. My good mood was ruined, and I blamed her. Not Sylvia. The Listener. I needed to know her name. "Erik, how informed are you?" Erik looked at me, a little surprised. "Hm, well enough, sir, I believe. What do you want to know?"

"Do you what the Dark Brotherhood is?"

"Of course. Everyone knows them."

I nodded. Of course everyone knew. "Okay. Do you know what the Listener is?"

Erik rubbed his chin for a moment. "They are sort of like the leader of the Brotherhood. They supposedly interpret the word of their matriarch, the Night Mother. The Listener is the only one who is able to hear her."

"Do you know who the Listener is of the DawnStar sanction?"

Erik bit his lip as he thought. "I know it's a Khajit female. She's a sneaky little thing. She's an expert assassin, and specializes in poisons. I heard that she also may be the leader of the Thieves' Guild. That's just a rumor though."

"Yes, yes. But her name. What's her fucking name?"

Erik looked at me curiously for a moment. "What's with all the questions, if you don't mind me asking, sir."

I sighed in frustration. "What's it fucking matter? I just need information. I'm trying to eradicate the Dark Brotherhood, and I need information. Tell me what you know, and I promise good fortune will come your way."

Erik lit up at the mention of a fortune. "Well, sir. The Dark Brotherhood has been on the steady decline since the third era. As far as we know, the DawnStar Sanctuary is the last one. There was a rumor going around about a year back that the Brotherhood's previous leader, Astrid, destroyed them by trying to betray a new member, now known as the Listener. Not much is know about the Khajit. I heard something once saying that she migrated to Skyrim with…you, sir."

This information made me stiffen. With me? I remembered the day I had come to Skyrim. I wanted to see the birthplace of my father. Instead, I had been branded as a StormCloak soldier by the Imperials. I remembered that there were two others that had accidentally been thrown in with Ulfric. A horse thief named Lokir, who had tried to run and been killed. And a young Khajit girl. When the dragon attacked, I had assumed she had died. She had tried to tell the Imperial General that she wasn't part of Ulfric's force. She had pleaded that her name was…Damn what had her name been?

"But I can't quiet remember her name," Erik said, interrupting my thoughts. "I think it was Ras…Ran…Ranae? I'm not sure, sir. I apologize."

It then hit me.

_I was standing behind a lithe Khajit. All I could think of was how strange she smelt. Like the forest, wild game, the mountains. Ulfric stood next to me, but he remained quiet. Rolaf, a captured StormCloak soldier, had explained that the large man to my right had been Ulfric StormCloak, the true High King of Skyrim and leader of the StormCloak army. The reason for my capture. _

"_I am not a soldier, spy, or assassin," the Khajit pleaded with General Tullius . "My name is Ras'Nae. I am just coming to this country to make something of myself. Please. I do not want to die." An Imperial Soldier asks Ras'Nae to step forward, and then he turns to his Captain. "She's not on the list, nor do I think she's part of the StormCloaks. Simply wrong timing. What shall we do with her, Captain?"_

_The captain turned to us. "Ignore the list. They're all treasonous. They all go to the block." An anger flared up inside of me. I was to be condemned because of a man I had just met? I wanted to tear out of my bonds and fight my way out of this hell, but there were too many soldiers present. Ras'Nae stepped back with us, her head hung. At first, I thought she was admitting defeat, but then I caught a glimpse of her eyes. They were burning. Tullius stepped forward and had a very one-sided conversation with Ulfric. I was too busy looking for a way out to listen. _

_We were then all shuffled as a Priestess of Arkay tried to give us all blessings, excluding Talos. One of the StormCloak steps forward, cutting her off. I admired his tenacity, but he was dead in the next minute. The captain summoned me next. I saw Ras'Nae look up sharply at me. Perhaps she was happy she wasn't going to be killed in front of me, even though she was next in line. I still couldn't see anyway out of this. I stepped forward as an Imperial shoved me roughly. I let out a growl, but was still shoved against the block. The executioner raised his axe, and then there was chaos. _

That was when I had lost track of Ras'Nae. She had disappeared as I followed Rolaf, and then to freedom. I never saw her again, or so I thought, so I had presumed she was dead. To know she was asleep in the hut, leader of the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves' Guild impressed me a little. She was like me. We both started from nothing and clawed our way up into power. I had completely tuned Sylvia and Erik out as I sank into my thoughts.

"Sir? Are you alright?" I looked at Sylvia. She was looking at me like I had sprouted horns. "What?"

"You look like something is troubling you."

"And your being nosey," I snapped, standing up. I downed the rest of my mead, tossed a coin on the table, and left the soldiers. Ras'Nae. Her name was Ras'Nae. I wanted to go back to her. I wanted to hold her and tell her her name. But I couldn't. I couldn't get myself so attached to her, because one day, one of us was going to kill the other. She was either going to kill me, or I was going to have to kill her.

As I started to leave , I began to think about what I was going to do. I still hadn't gotten the Elder Scroll from Alftand. That seemed like ages ago. I sighed as I walked South of Morthal. I was going to return to Solitude. I needed to speak to Ulfric, and last I heard, he was there. No matter what, I wasn't going to go back to that hut where Ras'Nae slept.

…**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::...**

**Phew! I managed to get this chapter done. I had so many ideas in my head, and they were starting to jumble up. I hope it wasn't too difficult to read. Please review! ****J**


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